


i'm not looking for a lover

by merines



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Sugar Daddy, and niall is mentioned, liam sort of makes a tiny appearance but it's not enough to really get a tag, more like they try REALLY REALLY hard for it to be that kind of relationship, well sort of sugar daddy kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merines/pseuds/merines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn has recently come into possession of a fortune he wants little to do with and time he doesn't know how to waste. And then there's Louis, someone who can solve both of these problems even though he has his own load of baggage. They meet in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm not looking for a lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petals/gifts).



> SOOOO this is probably like the least stable ship atm so i hope you enjoy this nonetheless? i tried making it zarry at first since that was lexxel's preferred choice, but i just didn't really like what i had so i switched to zouis, which was your other choice. there's still lots of zarry interactions in it so!! i hope it's good. anyway, i have never written ~sugar daddy~ fic before and i, admittedly, don't read much of it but i really liked this prompt idea? so i wanted to give it a try. it turned out to be more "two guys try really hard to have a sugar daddy type relationship but they're kind of super bad at it" tho, but it still basically follows the prompt so. i really hope you like it anyway! i had fun writing it.
> 
> warnings: age difference (six years, seems like five because of their close birthdays and everyone is of legal age), the whole sugar daddy concept in general, a (very tiny) mention of drug use. there's also a mentioned underage relationship (the age difference in it isn't extreme but one party was under 18 so) but it's only discussed.
> 
> also special thanks goes to r, my beta. you were very lovely, thank you for helping me out and letting me confess my embarrassment at you!!

He’s standing outside of a crowded pub one November night. There's been a sudden rise in temperature the last few days, and Zayn is taking advantage of the change before the inevitable onslaught of frost that is sure to come their way. He has never been too fond of the cold—it’s one of the reasons why people questioned why he decided to move to New York instead of somewhere brighter, like California. Zayn always just shrugged in response. And it’s not like he really _moved_ to the United States, anyway: that makes it sound permanent. No, he just wants a small break from London, somewhere far away where he can waste an inheritance he never even wanted.

He digs a hand through the pocket of his leather jacket in search for the new pack of cigarettes he just bought. He barely has it out in the open when there’s someone sliding next to him. Whoever it is doesn’t know what personal space is because they’re standing extremely close, their hips barely brushing against each other’s.  Zayn’s first instinct is to tell them to fuck off. So he does.

Surprisingly, he’s met with a bark of laughter as a response. Zayn turns his head and sees that it’s another guy, possibly a few years younger than him. He’s dressed in a simple green hoodie and tight black pants, fringe spilling over his forehead. There’s a faint trace of alcohol in his breath, so Zayn is fairly certain that he came from inside the pub. The light from the dim streetlamps cast his features in an odd yellowish glow that kind of make him look a bit sickly, but it’s probably doing the same thing to Zayn as well.

He’s also very, _very_ beautiful.

Zayn knows that he’s attractive. Like, extremely so. People are always telling him this, from his friends to his old coworkers to complete strangers on the street. It had taken him awhile to come to terms with this fact and actually start to believe it himself, but he now accepts that he is ridiculously good looking. And knowing this, as he looks at this younger man, there’s a brief moment where Zayn wonders how sharp the cheekbones of their offspring would be. The thought vanishes as soon as it had appeared, marked off as utter nonsense spurred on by vodka and the joint he shared with a bird earlier.

“You’re a charmer,” the stranger says, and Zayn is surprised to hear the accent. His immediate thought is that the guy is mocking his, like so many Americans do when they hear him speak, but it sounds so authentic that Zayn is pretty sure he’s also from England. 

“Only to people who don’t respect personal boundaries,” Zayn replies, raising an eyebrow.

“I wanted to ask if you have a light?” he says. He’s smiling now and batting his eyelashes. Most people would look ridiculous trying to pull off that move, but on him it works. “And a cig, too, while you’re at it.”

“Anything else? My wallet?” Zayn still hands him the cigarette regardless, and even lights it for him. He’s momentarily mesmerized by the way the flame lights up his face, and he notices that his eyes are blue. Before he can make out the exact shade, the fire cuts out.

The stranger takes a long drag of his cigarette, still smiling at Zayn. “Sure. How much you offering?”

Zayn stands up straighter. He’s had propositions for paid sex thrown at him before, which he has always rejected since he has never needed to pay someone for that kind of thing. He can pull on his own, thanks. But for some reason he doesn’t think that was quite what he had meant, even if it did come out that way.

He plays along. “How much do you want?”

The younger man looks absolutely delighted that Zayn is humoring him, and he leans in even closer. The smoke from his cigarette blows into Zayn’s face whenever the wind picks up a little, and he surprisingly doesn’t mind that much. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. Or the boy is too pretty.

“I want,” he answers, “pancakes.”

Pancakes. Zayn blinks once, twice, and repeats the word in disbelief. And then he’s laughing because what the hell? He’ll buy this stranger some pancakes.

He isn’t sure how it happens, but they both end up in a taxi that takes them to Denny’s. They slide into a booth on opposite sides of the table, and true to his word, he orders nothing but pancakes. Zayn really isn’t that hungry but he knows that the weed he had is probably going to change that, so he just asks for some French toast and juice.

They don’t really talk much while they eat, aside from idle chatter that’s done more for the sake of being polite than genuine interest. Zayn learns that his name is Louis and he’s nineteen. He unabashedly admits that he had gotten into the pub with a fake ID, which leads him into this rant about how unfair it is that he can get legally wasted back home but not in the States. Home is Doncaster, apparently, and Zayn has never been there and he doubts he ever will. Zayn asks what he’s doing here anyway, away from England, and Louis just gives this noncommittal shrug that Zayn understands. He lets the subject drop.

He doesn’t say much about himself in comparison, aside from the fact that he lived in London before relocating here. When Louis presses for his age he grudgingly admits that he’s twenty-five, and Louis is way too pleased by that fact.

“So it’s just a five year difference then,” Louis says in between mouthfuls of pancake. “Since I turn twenty next month. I thought you may have been older since you look all… sophisticated.”

Zayn smirks. “Have a thing for older men?”

“Rich older men,” Louis answers back, grinning and pointing at Zayn’s Cartier watch with his fork. “That is the very definition of my type.”

He really isn’t sure what to make of all this. Most people don’t flat out admit that they’re gold digging, and Louis’ sense of humor makes it hard to tell if he’s actually being serious or not. And normally Zayn gets disgusted when people use him for his money—it’s part of the reason he fled to the other side of the Atlantic. But at that moment, sitting across from Louis who is happily stabbing the last pieces of his food, the idea doesn’t seem that bad.

Which is probably a bad idea in itself.

After they finish eating, Zayn pays for the meal and they both head outside. The temperature seems to have dropped while they were in the restaurant, and Zayn zips up his jacket. Louis shivers next to him, and if this were a date then Zayn would put an arm around him and snuggle. He still isn’t sure what this is, although the thought from earlier is still swimming through his head. He tucks it away for later. If there is a later.

“Thanks for the food,” Louis says. “I’m heading this way. Call me?”

“How will I—“ Zayn stops himself and puts a hand in his pocket. He pulls out a napkin that has a phone number scrawled onto it in red crayon. Louis tries to keep his face blank, but his lips are curving upwards and Zayn just knows that he’s feeling super smug for managing to be sneaky. What a wanker. Zayn ignores the fact that he probably has a similar expression on his face. “Whatever. Go home, it’s past your bedtime.”

For a second it looks like Louis is going to argue with that sentence, although Zayn isn’t sure which part, but then he just shrugs again and starts walking. He calls over his shoulder, “Next time, let’s go somewhere with more overpriced food. I’m a fan of lobster.”

What a little shit.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Zayn is sitting on his couch and Skyping with Harry. His childhood friend is telling some story about how he came across some kittens. The tale is winding and he sidetracks way too much for Zayn to pay full attention, but he figures that it’s just going to end with Harry announcing he adopted more cats. And it does. Zayn tries not to laugh when Harry says it, his smile practically splitting his face in half.  

He never did call Louis. It isn’t for a lack of interest; Louis was very pretty, after all. But Zayn isn’t sure he wants to really commit to anything, even if it does only turn into a one night stand. Zayn would prefer something that requires no exchange in information though.  Once you have a way to contact them again, you can get in too deep. No, it’s much better to not become attached to anyone while he’s here. It’ll make his move back home, whenever that happens, run more smoothly.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. He’s frowning at the screen, his eyebrows knit together in concern. “You look like you’re thinking about something.”

“Yeah,” Zayn answers. “You should try it some time.”

Harry’s smile is back instantly. He sticks his tongue out at his friend before excusing himself and running out of the view of the camera. After a few minutes he returns and pulls his hands around from his back to present two tiny balls of gray and white fur. They keep trying to climb out of his big palms, but he just readjusts himself so they don’t go tumbling down. Zayn has to look away from the screen before he’s smiling as dorkily as his friend is.

There isn’t a lot that he misses about his country. His sisters and parents, yeah, but other than that? Not much—aside from Harry and Niall. But Zayn’s relationship with Niall has always been more relaxed; they can go without speaking for two months and still pick up where they left off as if they had just seen each other the previous day. It isn’t like they aren’t close or anything—they just always knew they would be in a good place with each other no matter what. Harry, though. Harry has always been super affectionate, the type who always wanted to be surrounded by the people he loves. So Zayn always calls and texts him, and they try to Skype at least once a week if not more. Unlike Zayn, Harry actually has a real job so they have to work with his schedule and the time difference.

“What are their names?”

“This one is Phyllis,” he lifts up the gray one. “And this is Ingeborg.”

Zayn frowns. “They’re kittens, not old ladies.”

“And they will grow into their old lady names eventually.”

He has a point there.

“I hope that you can meet them in person soon,” Harry continues, almost shyly. Zayn shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Almost all of their conversations end up this way, with Harry trying to convince Zayn to come back and Zayn saying no. Harry is the only person who has managed to make him feel guilty about going to New York, but he won’t go back even for him. Not until he’s ready.

“Eventually, Haz,” he replies just like he always does.

Zayn’s answer doesn’t please Harry though, and he pouts for the rest of the call. They hang up because Harry has to go to work and Zayn closes his laptop with a bad taste in his mouth. He hates disappointing the people he actually gives a fuck about, but he won’t give in to his friend. He needs this time away from home. He was being suffocated, and he knows that if he goes back now he won’t be able to handle it again. What he needs at the moment, more than anything else, is a good distraction.

Louis.

If he just texts him once then that shouldn’t be too bad, right? He still has his reservations, but if he doesn’t find something to concentrate on then he’s just going to feel bad for the rest of the day because of Harry. It happens every time after their call ends—Zayn starts to question his decision and then he feels like a shitty friend until the next time they speak to each other. He won’t change his mind, he refuses to go back, but that doesn’t stop him from wondering if he made the right choice or not.

It takes an hour for Louis to respond to the text, which is pretty good considering it’s been almost three weeks since they met. Zayn is kind of surprised that he texted back at all; if he had been stood up for that long he’d just forget about the person. He simply sends an address and a time. Zayn would be offended by how to the point he is, but then again, it’s kind of want he wants.

The address belongs to a tiny tea shop tucked between a thrift store and takeout Chinese. Zayn rolls his eyes at the cliché that an Englishman would invite him for some goddamn tea. Still, he goes inside and it doesn’t take too long for him to spot Louis huddled at a table.

He’s bent over an open textbook, highlighting a passage with a look of utmost concentration on his face. He’s even wearing glasses, Zayn notices, and it somehow makes his sharp features look unbearably soft. The sweater he’s wearing is much too large on him; he keeps halting his progress to push them back over his fingers. It’s such a contrast from how he appeared when Zayn first saw him that it takes a few seconds longer than necessary for the older man to walk over to the table.

He doesn’t say hi and instead slides into the free seat at the table. Louis looks up from his book at the motion, clearly taken off guard at the sudden intrusion to his little bubble. But once he notices who it is, that playful smirk from that night returns, and Zayn recognizes him again.

“Well, well, well,” Louis says, folding his hands on top of the pages of his book. “Look who came crawling back to me.”

Zayn can’t help but roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t call it crawling.”

“I was hurt, you know?” Louis continues as if he hadn’t heard the interjection. “I thought I met a fit guy who was willing to buy me pancakes, right? And then he just never calls. Do you know what something like that does to one’s self-esteem?”

“I somehow doubt you were too bothered by it,” Zayn counters, trying to fight the smile that’s beginning to form on his lips. He still isn’t sure what he thinks of Louis just yet, but his flair for dramatics is definitely entertaining. “What do we have here then? I knew you were a uni student.”

Surprisingly, Louis seems to deflate a little at that. But if he didn’t want Zayn to know what he does, then why invite him over when he’s clearly doing coursework? While Zayn is slightly curious to find out, he also really does not want to. He is, after all, only doing this to pass the time.

“Just a last minute cramming session,” Louis shrugs. He closes the book and pushes it to the side. “Don’t know why I’m bothering, I’m going to fail either way. Anyway, why’d you suddenly remember I exist? I usually give up on a fella after he’s ignored me for almost a month.”

Heat rushes to his face, but he can’t really fault Louis for being slightly resentful. If the tables were turned, he would be put off by his own actions. Hell, he wouldn’t even have agreed to meet up. And despite what Louis is saying, he doesn’t appear to be too annoyed at Zayn for the radio silence.

“I was wondering if you cared for some lobster,” Zayn replies. He takes delight in the way that Louis’ face lights up at the suggestion, betraying the nonchalance he has been displaying until now.

“You know I was joking, right?” Louis says, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Denny’s is one thing, but a lobster dinner is sort of outside my price range.”

Zayn gives his companion another look over. Now that he’s closer, he notices the dark bruises beneath Louis’ eyes and that his sweater has definitely seen better days. Even the textbook is beat up, clearly pre-owned. There’s a pang of familiarity at the sight—if Zayn hadn’t inherited all that money, he would be in the same position Louis is in, most likely. He can understand Louis’ hesitance to accept charity, but he also remembers how straightforward he had been before Zayn truly knew anything about him.

_Have a thing for older men?_

_Rich older men._

“I’m not joking though,” Zayn says. He leans over the table, lowering his voice so it doesn’t carry over to any of the other occupied tables. “I’m going to buy you a fancy lobster dinner in a fancy restaurant. Maybe not tonight, if you don’t have time, but soon.”

Louis seems to consider this, the expression on his face nothing but skeptical. Zayn knows that he isn’t going to say no though. He isn’t sure why he is so sure of it, but he can just tell that Louis is going to agree to the dinner. He wouldn't call the younger man, like, a gold digger or anything of the sort. But there’s a certain glint in his eyes that appears when Zayn talks about the expense. They both know that Louis wouldn’t be able to do something like this normally if it isn’t paid for by someone else.

“So, what’s the catch?” Louis asks. “No offense, but I have a hard time believing that you want to date me after the whole three week thing.”

A waitress is suddenly at their side, asking if Zayn wants anything. A part of him is unimpressed at how long it took to get some service while the other half is annoyed at the interruption. He asks for some coffee—which Louis exaggeratedly blanches at—and waits until she walks away before turning back to Louis.

“Maybe I just want to spoil you,” Zayn answers. “It’s my way of apologizing for the wait.”

Louis chuckles at that and he bats his eyelashes again. Even in this atmosphere, so different from outside the pub, it still strangely works. “Spoil me? What are you, my sugar daddy?”

It’s a joke. It is very clear and apparent that it is a joke, but there’s a charged moment between the two once the words are out. They stare at each other, and Zayn’s mind races a thousand miles a minute. Zayn does not want to date. He is very firm in that decision, but… something like this doesn’t really qualify as dating, does it? And what does it entail? Him throwing his money at Louis in exchange for… what? Zayn is pretty sure that these types of relationships involve sex. He is not exactly an expert on this sort of thing, but he is almost positive about that fact.

It’s weird. He’s more concerned about the sex part than the money. But considering that he sort of hates his fortune for what it did to his life, it probably isn’t too surprising that he has zero issues with throwing it away. He already gave his family all the money they would need to live more than comfortable lives, and he isn’t stupid enough to waste away all of it. Yet, this idea is very appealing to him. He just doesn’t want it to seem like he’s only interested in fucking Louis.

“This is not how I expected this conversation to go,” Louis mutters, low enough that Zayn isn’t entirely sure if he was supposed to hear that. He adds on, more clearly this time, “Is that a yes?”

There’s a slight tilt to his mouth when he asks this, like he’s daring Zayn to do anything but agree. And Zayn isn’t even sure if he wants to; all he wants out of his stay in America is a nice, relaxed time for him to fuck around. He needed a change of pace. But… wouldn’t this sort of be exactly that? He wanted different, and this would be, well, different. And it’s still technically not dating, so if he changes his mind about this potential setup then it should be okay, right?

There is still one thing bothering him. “What do I get out of it?”

There’s a sliver of pause, as if Louis hadn’t been expecting Zayn to go along with it, but he smiles brightly nonetheless. “Besides being in my presence? I can pay you in… sexual favors.”

Zayn snorts so loudly he startles the waitress who chose that moment to return with his drink. She hurries away, casting an annoyed look over her shoulder as she goes, but Zayn pays her no mind. “That sounds a little like prostitution, mate, and you’re too pretty to be hitting the corners.”

Louis leans back into his chair, still smiling. “Think of it this way then. You get to march around with a fit, younger boy and all you have to do is ravish me with material goods. Sounds fair, right?”

Zayn narrows his eyes. “You know, considering that you said you were joking, you’re a little _too_ comfortable about all of this.”

Louis just takes a sip of his tea in response. It’s sort of suspicious, Zayn thinks, and he is almost seventy percent sure that Louis is just acting dumb about the subject. But really, it isn’t any of his business. And even if it were, he still wouldn’t want to know.

“Are you serious about this?” Zayn asks once he realizes that he won’t get an answer to the previous train of thought. “You properly want to be my—what’s the term?”

“I believe it’s sugar baby,” Louis replies as he takes another sip. “But yes. Why wouldn’t I be serious? I’m a poor uni student who can’t even afford to buy his own lobster dinner.”

“Right. You know there will be ground rules, right? If we do this… We’re not dating.”

Louis nods wordlessly, so Zayn continues. “So, if you meet some bloke that you want to properly be with, feel free to ditch me. I won’t be heartbroken.”

“The chances of that happening are slim,” Louis says. There’s no trace of disappointment at his admission; he seems to have accepted this as fact and doesn’t care either way. “Any other rules?”

“I’ll get back to you about that,” Zayn replies. “Are you sure about this?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” Louis says in lieu of an answer.

Despite all of his reservations on the matter, Zayn already knows what his answer is. Honestly, he probably knew what it was before the subject was even brought up. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Louis smiles again, the same one he had when they first met outside the pub. He then stands up while gathering all of his belongings. Once he has everything in hand, he leans over the table so that his face is right in front of Zayn’s. “And to seal our agreement, I will leave the check to you. I have to go to lecture now. Bye, bye.”

He presses a quick kiss to Zayn’s nose and, letting out a giggle that should be absolutely illegal in all fifty states plus US territories, he bolts out the front door. Zayn watches him go, very amused and, somehow, slightly concerned. He finishes his own coffee before flagging the waitress down to pay for their items. After, he makes his way back to his place to ponder about life and what the hell he just got himself into.

Once home, Zayn immediately powers his laptop on and searches the internet. He has the basic idea of what this whole thing about, but the fact that Louis was way more knowledgeable about it didn’t sit right with him. He figures that it should have been the other way around.

This is different, he thinks. This might be what he needs to break away from everything that has been weighing him down. If he isn’t happy being himself, then he just has to be someone else entirely.

* * *

The thing about Louis is that he doesn’t actually know how rich Zayn is. They have already established that he has money, obviously, but it’s not like he’s aware that Zayn inherited what was left of an almost billion dollar estate. Hell, it probably would have hit the billions mark if his old neighbor didn’t stop giving a fuck about her money near the end of her life. So, Louis knows he’s rich. Just not _rich_ rich.

Zayn wants to keep it that way. If this is to work the way he wants it to, then he plans on keeping his private life and his Louis life completely separate. The moment he fears that it might be bleeding through, he will cut the student out.  He doesn’t do complicated, after all. And there is just something that tells him that Louis is the very definition of complicated wrapped neatly in a tiny bow, even if he pretends otherwise.

So, they set some ground rules. They will never go to Zayn’s flat. It’s situated in too nice of a neighborhood in too high of a floor, and he knows that five seconds inside the building would give it all away. Asking questions about their lives in New York are okay, but anything that goes beyond that is out of the question. They must not discuss what they did in England, or what brought them across an entire ocean. Surprisingly, Louis agrees to that a little too eagerly. Zayn tries to pay no mind to that.

He is pretty sure that Louis is taking the whole thing as some sort of joke. He giggles a lot in the same manner that a misbehaving child would when he thinks he’s going to get away with a misdeed. He will lean over and whisper, “Daddy,” in a sultry voice before sprinting away. All of his actions point to a lad just having fun with some sort of amusing game before he moves on to the next thing.

Zayn can’t really blame him. It has only been two weeks into this—whatever the hell this is—and the two of them haven’t really done much together except for another short lunch 'date' that was mostly Louis stealing napkins and sugar packets from the table. Louis is apparently extremely busy with school; he never says this outright, but Zayn just knows that’s what he’s doing all the time. He can see all the all-nighters the student pulls by the way he attempts to stifle yawns or how he stares blearily at nothing when he thinks Zayn isn’t looking. Zayn has no idea if he has a job or not, as Louis never mentioned it before, but maybe his family helps him with the income?

He really shouldn’t be wondering about all of this, but he has always been slightly curious. It just seems unfair for him to be thinking about Louis’ financial situation when he refuses to reveal that same information about himself. Then again, just thinking about something isn’t bad, right? As long as he doesn’t give his curiosity a voice everything should be fine.

They go for the highly anticipated lobster dinner on a Friday evening. Zayn dresses extra nicely, bringing out a black tie and matching suit. He frets for a moment that he may be overdoing it, but fuck it. It’s nice to look as much as you’re worth every once in a while.

He picks Louis up in front of the tea shop they went to before. Zayn is fairly certain that the guy lives in dorms somewhere, but he never gave Zayn his address. Louis is wearing a red jumper this time, its sleeves once again hiding his small hands from the cold night. He is extremely underdressed for the kind of restaurant they’re going to. It brings a sort of thrill to Zayn, though, seeing that. He opens the passenger door and Louis carefully climbs in.

“You have a Lamborghini,” Louis says instead of an actual greeting. “With very nice rims.”

Zayn doesn’t look over at him. He barely uses this car since what is even the point in driving when you live in this city? But for special occasions he’ll bring it out, like tonight. Tonight he wants to show off. He wants to wipe that condescending smile off Louis’ face. He wants—well. He will see how the night goes.

Louis doesn’t notice his attire until they both climb out of the car. His eyes widen almost comically and he instantly glances down to what he has on. Before Zayn can even get a word out, Louis immediately spins around to see what the other people who are entering and leaving the restaurant is wearing. Once it sort of hits him that what he has on isn’t entirely appropriate, he lets out a long groan of frustration.

“Something wrong?” Zayn asks innocently as he walks over to him. “You were all excited up ‘til a second ago.”

“I thought you were taking me to, like, the Red Lobster,” Louis admits, his voice so quiet that Zayn has to lean forward to hear him. “But this is—this is some fancy shit. Will they even let me inside?”

“They will if you’re with me,” Zayn reassures him. Louis still appears skeptical, but he allows Zayn to lead him inside. When the host greets them, he casts Louis a rather disapproving look. Before he can say anything about it, though, Zayn just flashes him a wide smile. “Please give us a table with a fantastic view, sir. I’m spoiling my date tonight.”

The man goes through what seems like twenty different facial expressions before he settles back into the default smile that people who do not get paid enough for their shitty job have. Even though Zayn is pretty sure that they are breaking some sort of dress code, the host probably no longer gives any fucks because he leads them to a table near the window anyway.

Once the man is well out of earshot, Louis glares at Zayn. “You should have told me we were coming here.”

“Did you seriously think I would settle for some second rate lobster after you’ve been bothering me about it for weeks?” he replies. “I’m not cheap.”

Louis begins to play with his fringe, a faint blush covering his cheeks. That’s new. “I didn’t think you were being serious about…”

About? About this. Zayn is fully aware that Louis has been treating this all like a joke. And, honestly, that sort of relieves Zayn a bit. He's been worried that this had been some sort of mistake on both of their parts, but if Louis thought it was a joke then they could have an easy out. But today he suddenly realized that he doesn’t really want it to be a joke. He wants Louis to take him seriously.

“Daddy takes this very seriously,” Zayn says smoothly, although the second the words come out he wants to run. He is very grateful that Niall isn’t here because his friend would never let him live that down. Honestly, no one should. He is almost positive that Louis is seconds away from laughing his perky ass off right now.

Louis’ mouth is slightly agape, which isn’t a good sign, but there is something about his expression that is… interesting. He looks very contemplative, Zayn thinks, and it is probably the most serious he has ever seen the younger man. Not that he has many moments to compare it to on that front, but Zayn is pretty certain that he did something right.

“Okay,” Louis picks up his menu, effectively hiding his entire face from view. “What’s the most expensive thing on here?”

The rest of the evening turns into one of their usual nights. Louis cracks jokes and prattles on about nothing of real importance while Zayn listens and occasionally interrupts with a, “That’s not actually physically possible,” or something along those lines. At times he thinks that he had imagined how oddly Louis acted earlier in the night, but every now and then he’ll catch him staring a little too intensely across the table.

When the bill arrives, Zayn tries his best to hide it from view. Louis snatches it before the waiter can take it away though, and when his eyes land on the price line they almost fly out of their sockets. He almost rips the piece of paper so Zayn gently tugs it out of his grasp and hands it to the less than amused server. Once he walks away with Zayn’s card, Louis slumps down in his chair.

“Jesus fucking Christ, mate,” he hisses. “That was three digits.”

“You wanted the most expensive item on the menu,” Zayn shrugs. “And dessert.”

“You’re serious about this. Like, properly serious. You’re actually going to—“

The thing is, despite how incredulous Louis’ tone is, that familiar glint in his eye is still there and it completely contradicts everything that’s coming out of his mouth. So, even though he sounds as if he can’t believe that this is happening, Zayn isn’t entirely sure if that is the actual case. Although it isn’t like he really knows or anything; they still barely qualify as acquaintances. He could just be overthinking all of this, adding depth to the student that isn’t really there.

Zayn thanks the server when he returns with his card and then proceeds to write him a very large tip. “If you’re not then we can just back out. There’s no shame in changing your mind.”

It comes out as slightly mocking, but he does mean it. Even if nothing actually comes out of this, it still managed to do what Zayn wanted it to—distract himself. Maybe not as much as he thought it would, but he has never been one to really complain about that sort of thing. And meeting Louis had been nice. So, he doesn’t think he wasted his time or anything. Louis can’t complain because he got multiple free meals out of it.

Instead of answering, Louis slides out of his seat and saunters over to Zayn’s side. Once there, he wraps his arms around Zayn’s neck and presses their lips together. Zayn gasps in response; they have never actually had any real physical contact outside of a light touch on the shoulder or knee. Yet here Louis is, kissing him roughly right in the middle of a crowded restaurant filled with disgruntled middle-aged rich people. And before Zayn can even properly kiss back, Louis is stepping away from him.

“Let’s go,” he happily chirps and practically skips away. Zayn stares after him, very much dumbfounded, but he still follows. There are a few stares that accompany him, and he flips them the bird as he goes.

The night air is chilly when they step outside, and Zayn notices that Louis has fished a beanie out of his pocket to pull over his head. He looks extremely cuddly, and before Zayn even knows what he’s doing he’s pulling him close to him. Louis goes along quite contently, and his body next to Zayn’s brings in much needed warmth. They stand like that together until the valet brings his car around for the two of them to climb in.

“Where to now?” Louis asks once he’s settled in the seat.

Zayn doesn’t answer right away. The question hangs in the air, and he knows that whatever he says may completely change how the course of this relationship will work. He remembers Louis offering to pay him in ‘sexual favors,’ and from that way he’s looking at him, Zayn is pretty sure that Louis remembers as well.

“Anywhere you want to go,” Zayn replies smoothly, his eyes not leaving the road as he goes.

Louis doesn’t answer right away and opts instead to just stare out the window. Zayn wonders if he hadn’t heard him, and is about to repeat the question when Louis suddenly points excitedly at a building coming up in the distance.

“There!” he shouts happily. “We’re going there.”

It’s a hotel.

Hm.

Zayn pulls into valet parking and the two of them get out of the car. The worker gives them this sort of look that makes Zayn think he has an idea of what’s going on here, but Louis just smiles pleasantly at him and goes inside. Zayn watches the exchange curiously before following the student. He books them into a suite, something that is way too expensive considering they are most likely not going to be staying for long. Louis waits in a spot that’s out of the way, where he's clearly people-watching. He actually jumps when Zayn approaches him with the key.

The walk to the suite is a quiet one, the only sound being their shoes shuffling over the tiled floor and the occasional guest walking by them. At one point a herd of girls run past, and Zayn doesn’t fail to notice how a few of them look over the two of them appreciatively. If this were a different time in his life he may consider them, but for now he just keeps his eyes on Louis walking next to him.

He categorizes all the tiny details about him. There’s the Louis full of bravado, who flutters his eyelashes and acts as if he knows more than he lets on. And then there’s this Louis, who nibbles nervously on his bottom lip as he hesitantly looks around, as if he’s waiting for some sort of punchline. The most baffling part is that sometimes you see these different aspects all at once.

The room is gorgeous. A king-sized bed sits right next to the large sliding doors that lead to a balcony patio. The carpet is plush and Zayn is certain that if he walked on top of it with nothing but his bare feet it’ll feel heavenly. A crystal chandelier hangs over the center of the room, and that Sia song starts playing in his head as he looks up at it.

“I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier,” Louis mutters from his left, and Zayn actually bursts out laughing at that, startling Louis.

“What?” he asks the older man, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I like Sia.”

Zayn just shakes his head, walking over to the mini-fridge that’s tucked into a corner. “I bet you can’t name three of her albums.”

Louis makes a sound that sounds like an indignant goat, and there’s a moment where Zayn is ridiculously endeared by the reaction. He shakes himself out of it though, and instead focuses on examining the contents of the fridge. A few bottles of overpriced water, soda, wine… He grabs the wine bottle and places it on top of the appliance.

“Nothing turns me off like a music snob,” Louis says coyly. When Zayn’s back was turned, he seems to have made his way to the bed. Louis pats a few of the large pillows decorating it, and he seems to be pleased by whatever he finds because he catapults himself onto them.

Zayn, with the wine bottle in tow, joins him. They both sit side by side with their backs against the pillows, and Zayn sets the wine on the bedside table. The mattress is so soft that Zayn thinks he might melt into it and become some sort of half-bed, half-man creature. Louis appears to be having a similar thought process, as he starfishes his limbs, taking up the majority of the space on the bed. It’s very inconsiderate.

“Are you going to ravish me now?” Louis dramatically asks, lifting his head up a bit so he can look at Zayn properly. “That’s what is supposed to happen next, you know.”

Zayn snorts. “Don’t make me call myself ‘daddy’ again in the third person.”

Interestingly, Louis’ face reddens at that and his eyes quickly dart away from Zayn’s. There is definitely something in that response that Zayn wouldn’t mind exploring, but right now doesn’t seem like the time. Even sex doesn’t feel appropriate right now. To him, it kind of feels like the only reason they are in this room is because it’s to be expected, like it’s the obvious choice and they took it without even examining the other options.

“I want alcohol,” Louis says as he sits up and reaches over Zayn for the bottle. “We should be drunk.”

Luckily, it’s the kind with the stopper that can be removed without a corkscrew. Once it’s opened, Zayn realizes that he forgot to grab some cups to drink from, but Louis forgoes them completely and takes a swig straight from the bottle. He then hands it over to Zayn who also takes a sip.

They lay like that for a while, passing the bottle to each other to drink from it. It’s nice, reminding him of what he used to do with Niall and Harry before everything went to shit. Granted, he had never been propositioned for sex by either of them (at least, not _seriously_ ), but everything else is more or less familiar. Louis’ phone breaks the silence. He ignores it at first and grows more and more frustrated as it continues to rings. He casts Zayn an apologetic look and answers it. Zayn is certain that if Louis hadn’t been tipsy, he would have just rejected the call or gone outside with it. 

“Liam?” Louis says, frowning as he speaks. “Now’s not really a good time for me.”

This Liam person babbles on for a while; Zayn can hear his voice through the receiver, but he can’t make out what any of his words actually are. It reminds him of the parents from those old Charlie Brown cartoons. Whatever he’s saying, Louis doesn’t appear to be happy about it. He keeps trying to interject, but Liam just keeps going on, silencing him.

“What do you mean he knows where I go to school?” he suddenly hisses. His tone is panicked, and Zayn is suddenly hit with a wave of concern for the boy. He almost, _almost,_ asks what’s wrong, but he keeps the question to himself. It isn’t any of his business.

“If he tries contacting you again just ignore him,” he continues. “Right. No, I’m not mad at you. Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. I really can’t talk about this right now though. Okay. Bye.”

“You okay?” Zayn asks. He figures that seems impartial enough to be alright to ask. He’ll feel weird if he doesn’t say anything at all after hearing that kind of exchange.

Louis tosses the phone to the other end of the bed and watches it bounce once on the comforter. “Yeah. Just ex-boyfriend trouble. You know, the usual.”

He says it so casually that Zayn blinks at the stark difference between now and how he acted when he received the call. He’s positive that it isn’t just an ex being annoying. Still, he does not want to get into the middle of that. Past relationships dive way too deeply in the personal, and if Zayn wants to keep this life separate from his normal one then he cannot venture into that territory.

Not that it matters since Louis obviously does not want to talk about it. Which is exactly what Zayn wants. To not talk about it. So, it all works out for him perfectly.

Louis suddenly turns so that he’s on his side and facing Zayn. He smiles at him, and Zayn can already tell that he is about to attempt some line in an effort to seduce him. Zayn tries to remember if people were always like that back in uni, hungry with desire, or if Louis is just trying to play this up. He thinks it might be a mix of both actually; Zayn definitely did tumble into quite a few beds when he was back in school.

“Are we going to do it or what?” Louis asks, and Zayn has to hurriedly look away to avoid laughing. It figures that he would lack some grace when bringing the subject up.

“Were uni students always this bad at hitting on people?” he eventually replies, also turning so that he’s facing Louis.

Louis sits up, practically pouting. “You can’t just like, buy me a lobster dinner and not expect at least a blowjob in return. That’s not how this sort of thing works."

“Louis,” Zayn sighs. “What do you want me to say? That I will fuck you so hard you'll need a wheelchair to get your mail tomorrow morning? If you want it to be like that, I can go for that vibe, but if you just want to use sex for an awkward subject change then I can assure you there are better ways to go about it."

He wants to punch himself the moment the words are out; he is breaching that line he has been trying so hard to keep in tact. It's just that Louis had sounded  _really_ agitated during that phone call, and Zayn doesn't understand why it's bothering him. He has overheard conversations like that one many times in the past, and he has always known when to mind his own business. He wonders if his expression looks as regretful as he feels. He wonders why he can't stick to his own dumb rule for at least two seconds.

For a moment it appears as if Louis is offended. His eyes narrow at the accusation, and Zayn is certain that he's going to get some biting remark thrown at him. Instead, Louis just groans and slumps back down against the pillow, whatever fight he had in him already dissipated. "I would like for you to say that, yes. Okay, God, it's just this guy that I parted with on not so good terms. So it's really weird that he's trying to get in touch now? It's also weird talking about him when I'm trying to suck your dick, just so you know."

Zayn chuckles at that. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all... analytical on you there. You really don't have to talk about it."

"I won't talk about it," Louis answers. He then quickly adds, "Thank you for asking though. Also, uh, can we skip the blowjob thing? I think I want to just go to bed."

Zayn nods his head in response. Louis smiles briefly before curling up next to him, their bodies not touching but still close enough that Zayn can feel all of his warmth. Honestly, he isn't surprised that this didn't end in sex or anything. Even if that call hadn't come through, he isn't sure if they would have done anything. That's strange though, isn't it? That should be the whole point of this... this _thing_ that they have. But he can't even get mad about that, not when Louis is mumbling about the low comfort levels of hotel bedding right next to him.

* * *

Things more or less stay the same.

It's the end of the semester, right before Christmas break, and Zayn only ever sees a frazzled Louis whenever they meet up. He seems to be drowning in review sheets and essays, and any time Zayn offers to take him somewhere extravagant, Louis just shoots him the most pathetic look in the world. It's odd, honestly, because Zayn never would have guessed that Louis is serious about his studies. He's not questioning his intelligence or anything, but Louis always gave more of a vibe of someone who would spend an entire lesson doodling dicks in the corner of his notebook.

When he brings this up to Louis one day, the student laughs. "That's because I  _am_ that guy who just draws dicks on everything. I'm a fucking terrible student."

"Then what's with all this?" Zayn asks, gesturing at all the notecards that are piled high on the table. "You seem kind of into it, mate."

Louis nibbles at the end of his pen, which is a terrible habit. Zayn almost reaches over to yank it out of his mouth, but Louis starts talking again before he's able to. "I guess you can say I'm spite learning? This is really dumb, but has anyone ever told you that you can't do something, so you immediately try to prove them wrong?"

Zayn has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Yes, he is very aware of feeling like that. Admitting that is diving into the personal again, though, and Zayn is trying very hard not to make that mistake again after his flub in the hotel room. Neither of them have acknowledged Louis' ex after that night, even if Zayn sort of wants to know what's going on in that front. At least he can honestly say that the concern lies with him worrying about Louis' safety rather than just abject curiosity; he has heard horror stories of angry exes returning into a person's life for bad reasons, and the fact that this guy apparently knows where Louis goes to school isn't very good. Hell, even  _Zayn_ doesn't know where he goes to school. He assumes it's NYU, but that has more to do with it being the only university that Zayn knows the name of in the city.

"That's basically what this is," Louis continues when Zayn doesn't respond quickly enough. "And I know I should be getting an education for myself or whatever. Believe me, Liam won't shut up about that. But that diploma will feel a lot better if I'm flipping everyone who ever doubted me off while holding it, yeah?"

When he mentions Liam's name, he immediately looks apologetic at the slip. Zayn still has no idea who that is. He's obviously a friend of Louis', or whatever, but Zayn isn't entirely certain if he's a friend from school or back from England. Not that it matters since he has no plans to ever actually meet anyone in Louis' life. The thought actually makes him a little uncomfortable since that would probably mean Louis meeting _his_ people in return, and Zayn hasn't even seen them in what feels like a lifetime. How can he bring someone from the outside to meet them if he isn't even completely sure if he still has a place within that circle after all this time away?

"I understand," Zayn replies. He suddenly has a craving for a cigarette, but this stupid cafe doesn't allow smoking inside of it and it's freezing outside. Maybe he just wants to do something else, besides watching this—this _boy_ scribble notes onto paper all day until they say goodbye and walk home in different directions. Zayn has never pressed him about going out properly because he knows how stressful finals can be. This whole setup feels a little too domestic for his liking though, and the only other options are to either take him somewhere nice or to just stop seeing him until he's done with his exams.

Somehow, he isn't too crazy about the second option.

"You said your birthday was in December when we first met," Zayn says, picking up one of the notecards. The writing on it is unintelligible to him, and he wonders if Louis is even able to read it. He puts it back down. "Did it already pass?"

Interestingly enough, Louis blushes. "Um. No, it didn't. It's on Christmas Eve, actually."

Oh. Zayn was going to suggest them going out to celebrate it together if it had already happened, but... Louis probably has plans, especially if it's so close to Christmas. He would probably want to do things with his actual friends. Zayn doesn't know what his plans are for the break; for all he knows, Louis might be going back home for Christmas.

Zayn suddenly realizes with a start that this will be the first time he won't be home for the holiday season. His family doesn't actually celebrate Christmas, but they do exchange gifts. And Niall throws a huge party every New Year's Eve that he will be missing as well. A wave of homesickness washes over him, and for a few weak moments Zayn actually consider going back, even if it's just for a few days. That still feels like giving up though.

Before Zayn can say anything else, Louis suddenly blurts out, "Do you want to hang out on my birthday? My original plan was to order takeout and marathon every movie with Sandra Bullock in it, but..."

This is the exact opposite of what Zayn expected. He wipes away the dilemma of going back to London or not from his mind, and leans over the table to kiss Louis. It’s quick, but deep, and it has Louis’ lips trailing after his once he breaks away.

“Okay,” he says to a smiling Louis.

When he Skypes Harry that night, he’s in such good spirits that his mood doesn’t even sour when Harry brings up the inevitable topic of him going back home. Okay, it does a little, but the entire conversation doesn’t _immediately_ go downhill at the mere mention of it. Zayn is, for once, completely certain about something. Whatever the hell this thing with Louis is, he needed it to lower his stress level. He wonders what he would be doing right now if he didn’t have this relationship to distract him. Maybe he really would have given in and gone home for the holidays.

Harry shows off the cats, who have gotten a lot bigger since the first time Zayn has seen them. Apparently he’s taking them on a play date that upcoming Saturday, which Zayn thinks is ridiculous but he manages to keep that comment to himself. He won’t ruin Harry’s fun, even if said fun makes him sound like a forty-year-old suburban lady. 

“Are you sure you won’t even come back for New Year’s?” Harry asks, pulling at a long strand of hair. It was barely halfway down his neck when Zayn left, and now it’s creeping towards his shoulders. “Niall’s party is going to be massive this year. He’s even invited the Spice Girls.”

Zayn wishes that the small laptop screen could do justice to how unimpressed he must look right now. “Just because he invited them doesn’t mean they’re going to actually come. And even if they do, Victoria won’t, and she’s the only one who really matters.”

Harry gasps. “You know my favorite is Emma!”

“That doesn’t make her any more relevant.”

Harry mutters something that could be taken as an insult, but Zayn elects to ignore it. And then Harry is frowning and Zayn just knows that this is it, this is when Harry brings out the big doe eyes and laments over how miserable it is without Zayn. Yet Zayn doesn’t feel guilty about his decision right now. He kind of wants to tell his friend to mind his own business, and that he has no clue what his life in New York is like. That isn’t Harry’s fault though. Zayn is the one keeping secrets here.

“I already agreed to help host a party here,” he lies before Harry can say anything else. “A mate wanted to throw one but doesn’t have enough room in his flat, so I volunteered mine.”

Harry looks surprised, probably due to the fact that Zayn has never once mentioned any friends since he moved to the States. He has talked about going out with people before, but he never actually made it sound like he considered them proper mates (mainly because, well, he  _doesn't_ ). Zayn feels bad about lying to his best friend, although he thinks that there is a good chance that he will end up spending that night with Louis. So, even if he did fib about the exact details, he probably  _will_ have actual plans. It's not a total lie then, right? Granted, he still needs to find out if he's free then, but Louis had casually mentioned that all of his friends were busy for the entire break.

"That's great!" Harry says. "I'm glad you're making friends there, Z. It didn't really seem like..."

"Didn't seem like what?"

Harry immediately looks guilty, as if he hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. He probably didn't, he has a terrible brain to mouth filter. "Um. It just didn't really seem like you were enjoying yourself too much? It's part of the reason I, uh, keep asking you to come back. Whenever I ask you about New York, you just sort of... check out of the conversation? I know that things were shit for you while you were here, but if you're just as miserable over there then what's the point? And at least in London, you have us."

Zayn gets what he's saying. He completely understands where he is coming from with this, and honestly, he's sort of right in some ways. Except it isn't that he was miserable in London; he had just grown tired of everyone in his life backstabbing him the moment they realized they valued his money more than his relationship with them. And it's one thing for someone he barely knows to end up trying to use him for his fortune, but people who he considered irreplaceable parts of his life? Miserable in New York—that might be a bit of a stretch, although he can't deny that he hasn't really been happy here. He's alone.

He _was_ alone.  He may not have friends here or anything else that is even remotely permanent, but he has Louis. 

"I love it here," Zayn says, even though it's another lie. "I might just move here for real."

Zayn isn't exactly certain what makes him say it. The second the words are out though, Harry freezes. At first Zayn thinks that their connection lagged, but he quickly realizes that what he said had just shocked his friend so much that he momentarily stunned him. "I'm joking. I am going back to London, Hazza. Just not yet."

Harry doesn't look very convinced.

The days following that Skype call are kind of surreal. He doesn't see Louis again because he's in full-on finals mode, but Zayn figures that's alright. He had been beginning to hang around him way too often anyway, and while Zayn isn't sure if that's some sort of breach in the imaginary contract they have, it still feels like they were doing itwrong. It's been almost two months and no sex? It's not that Zayn even truly minds about that. He knows the sexual attraction is there, from the way Louis' skin flushes whenever Zayn presses his lips to the nape of his neck. They kiss, and touch, but everything is so fleeting that sometimes Zayn can't help but wonder if it's some sort of twisted metaphor for what their relationship is. Something that isn't substantial, but feels good at the moment. Yet, that's what Zayn signed up for, right?

It might help if he knew what his feelings on Louis actually are. Zayn likes him as a person; there is no way this could have gone on for as long as it has if he found the guy unbearable. Louis is gorgeous, and there are times where, when the light hits him in just the right way, Zayn is left speechless in his presence. He always recovers quickly, but he just can't really figure out how he can go from wanting to wrap Louis in blankets to wanting to slam him against a table depending on how Louis styles his hair. It's maddening.

But mostly, he can't shake away his suspicions that Louis is hiding something from him about all of this. Like, both of them are obviously keeping secrets from each other. They went into this knowing that they weren't going to disclose anything important. Zayn just feels like there is more to this whole thing that Louis isn't sharing though, something that Zayn probably should actually know. He can't ask about it though since it'd be a violation of one of the rules that he himself had set up.

When Christmas Eve finally rolls around, it's snowing lightly. Zayn isn't too thrilled by that since traffic is already going to be a mess because of the holiday, but it does give the night a pleasant atmosphere that is punctuated by pedestrians badly singing Christmas carols and other New Yorkers telling them to shut up. The cafe is closed that night, but they meet outside it. This time, Louis is actually dressed quite nicely in tight jeans and a bomber jacket. His hair is styled in some sort of weird swirly thing that, for some inexplicable reason, makes Zayn crave sweets. Zayn's in a dark grey suit, mainly because he thought it was easier to wear it than to pick through his closet for a more casual outfit. He enjoys the difference that their outfits create. It helps maintain the dividing line of what all of this is and isn't.

"Happy birthday," Zayn announces as soon as they're within hearing distance of each other.

"Where's my present?" Louis replies coyly, craning his neck to see where Zayn might be hiding something. 

He shakes his head. "You're such a kid. You'll get it later."

Louis narrows his eyes, and before Zayn can realize what's happening, he closes the distance between them. Louis' hand land on the inside of Zayn's thigh and he starts to rub a circle there, looking right at the older man's face while he does so. His fingers inch closer and closer to Zayn's crotch, and the look on his face is one that's daring Zayn to make him stop. They are in public, after all, and people can get arrested for public indecency just as well on Christmas as they can any other day. It isn't until Louis actually squeezes his dick that Zayn pushes him away, suddenly panting. His eyes dart around the area to see if anyone noticed, but the street is mostly empty sans a few people who aren't even looking their way.

"I'm officially no longer a teenager," Louis says innocently. "Don't call me kid."

"You're a menace," Zayn groans, readjusting himself before turning around to walk. Louis happily trails along after him, practically skipping, and Zayn knows he's being ridiculous on purpose. He's trying not to laugh at him because a visible reaction from Zayn is most likely what he wants, and Zayn refuses to give that to him. They have walked down two whole blocks before Louis finally starts to stubbornly yank on Zayn's jacket sleeve, most likely irked at the lack of attention he's getting. Zayn has to bite down his smile before he looks over at him. "Yes?"

Louis huffs indignantly, but then that smile is back in full force. "I'm a menace who isn't wearing any underwear right now."

Zayn is going to kill him.

They arrive at a posh French restaurant that Zayn had to reserve weeks in advance for. It's crowded, but Zayn is thankful for the anonymity that'll provide. The host leads them to a table towards the back and Zayn examines Louis during the walk there. He's much more comfortable this time than before, probably because he doesn't look like he just rolled out of bed. He thinks back to that first night when they met, how Louis moved his body with an air of seductive confidence that had Zayn staring after him. It's on full display again, from the sway of his hips to how he keeps peeking over at Zayn, his eyes sparkling in amusement. It's all really too much, and if it were anyone else Zayn would scoff at how overdone it is. It always works on Louis though. It might be because his entire personality is loud. Even the moments where he seems to be insecure draws attention.

It's weird analyzing another person like this. Zayn wonders if Louis ever does the same thing to him, if he picks apart Zayn's different layers to try to understand him a little bit better. Zayn doesn't consider himself to be that complicated of a person, yet for some reason people keep labeling him that way. He can be loud if he wants to be, even if most of the time he prefers to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves while he keeps track of it all for posterity. What exactly does Louis see when he looks at him? Or is he just some rich man who buys him fancy dinners without even asking for a handjob in return?

Even if that's the case, Zayn can't even be bothered by it. It's what this is.

"So... what did you get me?" Louis says after they've been seated. "It better be something good."

"Do you speak to your mum like that?" Zayn mutters as he flips through the menu. It is, regrettably, all in French. "Demand presents and shit?"

Louis looks scandalized at the mere suggestion of such a thing. "Don't be ridiculous. That's what my daddy is for."

It takes Zayn a second to get the joke. He throws a napkin at Louis, who squawks in protest at the attack. It earns them a few glares from the neighboring tables, but Zayn has already accepted the fact that if they are together they are going to end up pissing people off. Louis, being the mature individual that he is, retaliates by throwing his actual silverware at his companion. 

Zayn ducks and, to his horror, the projectile flies over his chair and hits a balding man straight in the head. Panicked screams ring out, and a small boy a few tables down yells out, "Food fight!" and dumps his drink into his neighbor's lap. 

Zayn and Louis leap from their seats and run out of the restaurant before the staff is able to figure out what exactly happened. Once they reach the cold air outside they stop to regain their composure, their panting breaths mixing in with their wild laughter. It isn't until one of the waiters runs out after them, yelling at them to stop, that they start moving again. They keep running, even when Zayn is positive that they are no longer being followed but he doesn't see the point in stopping. It isn't until they reach an area with a large crowd that they slow down, no longer being able to freely move around without bumping into another person.

"We're going to be banned from there," Zayn practically giggles, his eyes wet with tears from the stinging chill wind that blew against them as he ran. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get a reservation for tonight?"

Louis just shrugs. "I had no idea what was on the menu anyway. Look, it stopped snowing!"

It did. Now that he thinks about it, it's a miracle they didn't break their necks while running across the streets slick with ice. He knows that the snow is just going to turn into gross slush due to city life, but at that exact moment everything is simply picturesque. Zayn could pull out his phone to snap a picture and turn it into postcards.

What to do now though? They still need to eat, and all the restaurants are either closed or full. He glances around the area in case an idea might suddenly tackle him, alas nothing strikes. 

Louis doesn't seem to be discouraged. He hooks his arm through the crook of Zayn's and directs them into a turn. "Don't worry, love, I got this."

He takes them, surprisingly, to a pizza place. Louis apparently knows the guy behind the counter, and Zayn thinks that his nametag reads Liam, but it's obscured by a jacket. Interestingly enough, he also has an English accent. The realization that if this Liam guy had tonight off then Louis would probably be hanging out with him instead hits Zayn, and he tries to bury down the sudden flare of jealousy that erupts within him. Louis, completely unaware of Zayn's current inner conflict, gives the other boy a hug over the counter. Zayn can't help but notice that Liam keeps throwing suspicious glances his way. How much has Louis told him? He hasn't considered that Louis may have told other people about their thing. It isn't against any of their rules, but for some reason Zayn just assumed that he wouldn't tell anyone because Zayn hadn't. 

Liam does eventually introduce himself and Zayn wishes that he never met him. For him, the wait for the pizza to be ready is long and uncomfortable and all he wants to do is run back out into that frigid air. It isn't until Louis says his goodbyes that Zayn feels alright again. Grounded. It's even better when they leave.

"That was my best mate," Louis says nervously, staring at the warm pizza box in his hands. "He's too nice and agreed to cover for someone. On my birthday, can you believe that asshole?"

He must have also thought it to be awkward. Zayn is very aware that there is now a disproportionate  amount of shared knowledge between them. Yeah, Zayn doesn't know where Louis goes to school but he knows he has an ex-boyfriend and where his friend works. Louis knows nothing. 

"At least we got free pizza out of it. And I thought I was going to have to find another five star restaurant to satisfy you."

He leans down to whisper the words to him, his lips brushing against the shell of Louis' ear. The younger boy shivers at the contact, but it could have been from the low temperature. And suddenly he knows what to do next. Zayn doesn't know what makes him decide to do it. Maybe he's still feeling slightly possessive after the encounter with Liam or maybe the tiny sip of water he had was spiked. Either way, he turns to Louis and says, "Want to go back to mine?"

Louis pauses midstep. "Like... where you live?"

Zayn nods. "We're close by. And it is your birthday."

That instantly makes him brighten up. "Yeah, it is."

The walk to his flat is a pleasant one, with Louis hanging onto Zayn's arm and getting dangerously close to dropping the food a few times. There's electricity running through him, surging through his fingertips and lighting up his insides. Zayn wonders if they look like a proper couple to other people or if people are look at his suit and Louis' younger features and they just know. Louis gasps when they reach the complex, although Zayn thinks he's just being dramatic for kicks. He does look genuinely impressed when they have to go through security though, and even more so when he actually sees the decor.

"You can afford to live here?" he whispers, staring at a decorative vase as if it's the Mona Lisa. "I thought the security guard was going to strip search me before he let me through."

Zayn grins. "I think that's my job."

They enter the room laughing, but they both sober up once they're in. Louis is probably in awe at how spacious it all is while Zayn is suddenly overcome with the realization that he just invited Louis over. He looks around his apartment, trying to visualize what Louis might be seeing. It's sparsely decorated. Zayn never saw the point in making it feel like a home. Even if he can't be in England at the moment, he knows that's where he belongs. New York, like Louis, is a distraction. 

Louis sets the pizza box on the table carefully, as if there is anything on it he could potentially disturb. There's a vast difference between how he moves here versus the hotel room. In the hotel, Louis had touched everything and made every surface aware of his presence. In Zayn's flat, Louis is careful. It's like every footstep is measured so he won't disturb anything. It's almost as if he's trying his best to leave no trace of himself behind. 

Zayn pushes the thought away and goes to get plates and napkins for them. Of course he would be antsy, he probably never thought that Zayn would invite him over like this. Even Zayn isn't sure if he will start regretting this idea or not soon. Right now, though, he wants Louis here. And he wants him to be comfortable. He sets the items on top of the table that Louis is hovering next to. He's starving, but he ignores the pizza to wrap his arms around Louis' waist. "Do you want your present now or later?"

"Definitely later," he replies, trying to crane his neck to look at Zayn. "Let's eat this fabulous French cuisine now."

He doesn't let go, which leaves Louis to reach over and set up their plates. He's quite generous with his own serving, Zayn notes, giving himself the bigger slices with the most toppings on them. He is such a brat. Zayn begrudgingly loosens his hold on Louis so they can go and settle down on the couch. He isn't exactly sure where to go from here. He can play a movie, but that feels too couple-y to him. Maybe they could go out somewhere? He doubts that they'll end up leaving now that they're here though. He subconsciously glances over to the bedroom door. Hm.

Louis starts chattering about nonsense—gossip about the royal family back home, the latest happenings with Miley Cyrus, and other topics that Zayn wouldn't normally care to hear about. And while he thinks that this is something that genuinely interests Louis, Zayn is certain that he's only going on about it due to nerves. It isn't until Louis is describing in detail his obsession with Chris Hemsworth's thighs that Zayn decides to interrupt. "How were your exams?"

Louis frowns at first, like he can't believe someone would rather talk about school over how Thor could crush him with his legs. "I passed all of them. I might have lost ten years of my life from all those all nighters but..."

God, Zayn wishes his biggest worries were lectures and studying. At the time it'd seem so consuming, but now it kind of sounds like a respite. He wonders what life might have been like if he were just a few years younger and going to school with Louis. Would they be able to have a normal relationship? Then again, the only reason Louis approached him in the first place is because he assumed that Zayn has money. So maybe, if their circumstances were different, then they would have never crossed paths at all.

They finish their food in easy silence, although at one point Louis starts sucking the grease off his fingers in a way that is way too suggestive for Zayn's blood pressure. He has to physically yank Louis' hand away before he starts moaning. Zayn gathers the dishes and quickly dumps them in the kitchen sink. Louis is standing, stretching out his limbs, when Zayn returns to the living room. The younger man pauses when he notices him, and for a few seconds they simply stare at each other until Zayn crosses the room and kisses him.

Louis gasps and immediately wraps his arms around Zayn's neck, pulling him closer. Their breath smells like cheese and Zayn is pretty sure there have been sexier circumstances than this, but fuck it. He clumsily walks them to his room, only breaking the kiss when they stumble over a pair of sneakers he left lying there that morning. Louis just laughs at the almost concussion and they hurry the rest of the way.

When they get inside the bedroom Louis actually stops to look around. Zayn wants to know what he thinks when he sees everything; what is Louis piecing together about the older man when he takes this all in? Zayn doesn't ask though, and instead he just leads Louis to the large bed. They both crawl on top of the comforter and resume kissing, Louis with his back against the few pillows gathered at the headboard. They kiss roughly, and it doesn't take long for Zayn's hands to begin to roam down Louis' body. He slides his hand under his shirt to twist at Louis' nipple, and Zayn is delighted at the squeal he gets as a reaction. 

He removes Louis' shirt entirely because it is annoying and in the way. Once he has better access, he starts sucking along his collarbones, licking at the skin hard enough that it'll be bruised in the morning. Zayn has never been too fond of the idea of love bites—it's always obnoxious trying to hide them afterward. But he wants this. He wants to mark Louis, so he can awkwardly try to hide them from Liam afterwards. Actually, no. Louis seems like the type of person who would probably show them off while pretending that he didn't mean to. He'll lean down to pick up something that he dropped, which just so happens to expose his neck. _Oops_ , he'll say, _I had a crazy night._

Zayn isn't sure which visual he prefers. Before he can deliberate any farther, however, Louis pats him on the shoulder. The moment Zayn looks up at him he joins their lips again, as if the few moments when their lips weren't connected were torturous. Zayn shifts on the bed slightly and brushes against Louis' hardening bulge. He suddenly remembers what he had said when they were walking to the restaurant together, something about him not wearing any pants. He has a huge desire to find out how true that statement is, and he starts to pull Louis' jeans down. It doesn't take too long to discover that yes, Louis did decide to go commando this evening. His cock bounces once it's freed, and Zayn marvels at how pretty it is. And then he rolls his eyes at himself for actually enjoying a dick’s aesthetic.

He traces a finger down Louis' shaft, causing him to shiver at the touch. Anticipation swells within Zayn, and a voice from inside his head chides him for taking this long to do this. He's glad he waited though. Something just tells him that if they had sex before, it wouldn't have felt right. They would have done it because he felt obligated to because of their rules. Right now he wants to do this because it actually feels right. Every press of skin against skin is done simply for pure pleasure instead of as a requirement. 

"Want me to fuck you?" Zayn asks, and two seconds later he realizes that's probably too forward. Louis just nods eagerly though, like he's been waiting for that question all night. Perhaps even longer. Zayn doesn't dwell on that possibility for long. He detaches himself from Louis to dig through his bedside table in search for condoms and lube. On the bed, Louis is humming something that sounds suspiciously like Birthday Sex. He is very ridiculous and Zayn most definitely does not hum along with him.

Okay, so maybe he does at the chorus.

When he finally manages to fish the items out of the drawer Zayn settles back onto the bed, his eyes glued to Louis' erect cock. He own twitches in interest and he has to readjust himself through his suit pants. It'll be easier to just take his own clothes off entirely, but right now he wants to appreciate this: Louis wearing nothing but fuzzy socks, one slipping off his foot from when Zayn had dragged the boy's jeans over it. Louis is staring at something behind Zayn, and when he turns around to see what it is he finds a small pile of comics. 

"Next time we do this I'll dress up as Wonder Woman for you," Louis casually says, but his voice squeaks at the end of it. "I'll even get a lasso and you can tie me up. Fun, right?"

"You're so weird," Zayn laughs, uncapping the lube. "Don't tell me you already have the costume."

"Last Halloween was wild," he replies, although he seems to be paying more attention to Zayn's fingers, newly coated with lube. "I went all out."

"Sad that I missed it," Zayn answers and signals for Louis to turn over. Once he does so, Zayn carefully presses a finger past the rim. He normally does more foreplay than this, spends precious time fooling around , but he just wants Louis. "Make it up to me."

"On your birthday," Louis barely gets out, his words interrupted by a moan when Zayn adds in another finger. 

While one hand is occupied with slowly opening Louis up, Zayn uses the other to unzip his trousers and push them down. It's a little tricky to do so, and Louis begins to rock against his hand as soon as the friction lessens. Zayn abandons the attempt to undress for now and concentrates solely on aiming for Louis' prostate. 

"You have such a lovely ass," he murmurs, flexing his other hand against the skin there.

Louis covers his face with a pillow, and Zayn can barely make out his, "I'll donate some of it to you."

Zayn may hit his prostate a little harder than his previous thrusts, causing Louis to cry out. Satisfied that he's been opened up enough, he removes his fingers from Louis' hole. He takes the rest of his clothes off, not taking his eyes off of Louis as he does so.

When he lines them up after slipping on the condom,  he lets his hands trace along Louis' sides. "You sure about this, love? You want it?"

"Just fuck me," he groans. He quietly adds, "Please daddy."

Zayn can't tell if he meant that last bit as a joke or not, but either way he pushes his way past Louis' entrance. He's deliciously tight, and Zayn has to stop moving for a second just to marvel at how good Louis feels around his dick. Louis starts squirming impatiently again though, so Zayn pulls back out and slams in again.  Each time he slowly drags himself out and then rams his cock back in, hitting Louis' prostate every time after he finds it. Louis keeps muttering things beneath him, but Zayn can't quite catch what the words are. 

Zayn wraps his hand around Louis to grab at his leaking erection. Louis makes a whimpering noise at the contact, prompting Zayn to stroke his shaft. He tries to time it with his own thrusts, but the pleasure soon overrides his ability to multitask. Louis eventually takes Zayn's in his and starts wanking himself off using Zayn's fingers. 

Thinking about how full and stimulated Louis must be makes Zayn quicken his pace. He visualizes all the different ways he can open Louis up—with his fingers, his _tongue_. How next time he'll tease him for hours, have him begging to get on with it. He imagines Louis with cum sprinkled over his lovely face and that's what drives him over the edge. He comes hard, his vision blanking out for a second as he fills the condom. He can sense Louis still working towards his own orgasm, and shortly after he jerks beneath him.

Zayn takes a deep breath and pulls out. He yanks the condom off and tosses it over the bedside to gather Louis in his arms. Surprisingly, Louis' small frame stiffens at the move, but he soon relaxes in Zayn's embrace. If Zayn hadn't just had an orgasm he probably would be more attentive about that. Right now he lets the matter drop.

"That was an acceptable gift," Louis says, scratching at his stomach. "Daddy has pleased me."

"First of all, saying 'daddy' when the sex is over just sounds ridiculous," Zayn snorts. "Second, that wasn't your gift."

Louis immediately sits up, which unfortunately knocks Zayn's arms off him. "There's more? Oh, gimme!"

Grumbling, Zayn rolls out of bed. He pretends not to notice Louis watching him as he crosses to the other side of the room towards the bathroom. Inside he turns the water for the jacuzzi tub and starts filling it up. Once he has that going, Zayn reenters the bedroom.

"Get in there, we're taking a bath," Zayn says as he shifts through a drawer. When he doesn't hear Louis moving he turns around. "No, your present is not a bubble bath. Get in there."

That gets Louis moving. After grabbing extra towels and the actual gift Zayn returns to the bath. To the surprise of no one, Louis has made himself comfortable inside the still rising water. It's odd to think that Louis seemed so out of place when they first arrived at the flat. Now he's gleefully humming the Jaws theme while completely soaking the marble floor. 

Zayn sets the towels on top of the toilet seat and tucks the gift underneath them so Louis won't see. Once that's taken care of he climbs in behind the younger man. Louis scoots forward to give him more room and Zayn is just so... surprised at how well fit together. Would he have been able to do something like this if Louis was replaced with anyone else?

"You're killing me here," Louis whines, leaning his back against Zayn's chest. "If you wait any longer then it won't be my birthday anymore."

"Damn," Zayn snaps his fingers. "If only there was a holiday immediately after your birthday where you exchange gifts."

Louis begins to protest, arguing about how there is a vast difference between birthday and major holiday gifts. Zayn ignores him and reaches over the side of the tub to dig through the towel pile and unearth the piece of paper. Without any ceremony, he shoves it in Louis' face.

"This is a check," Louis says hesitantly, like he's afraid it's going to disappear. 

"A blank check," Zayn corrects him. "Give me a ballpark of what your estimated tuition cost is."

His words are met with stunned silence. Zayn expected this reaction, so he sets the check on top of the towels before it gets soaked. "You're going to ask me if this is some sort of joke. It isn't. I am going to pay for your university. It's mostly going to be an approximate sum though, so you might get a little extra or it might not be enough to cover the full amount. Okay?"

"You're crazy," Louis hisses, turning his body around so he can properly face him. "That's hundreds of thousands of dollars. You—you barely know me! Why are you wasting your money on me?"

"Isn't that the whole point of this?" Zayn easily says, and he watches Louis' face crumble as he starts to cry.

"Fucking stupid," he sobs, grabbing onto Zayn's shoulders. "The dumbest, most idiotic—"

Zayn just nods his head as Louis rambles on about how foolish he is. He grabs the shampoo and, while Louis goes on a vivid explanation of how he's going to beat Zayn up later, he starts to wash Louis' hair. 

It feels like one of the better gifts he's ever given.

* * *

Zayn wakes up the next morning to an unconscious Louis sprawled across him, hogging all the blankets. His morning grogginess makes the events of last night sort of hazy, but he is pretty sure they had a round two after Louis became tired of insulting him. By the time they made it out of the tub, they were pruney and half the water had ended up on the bathroom floor.

He has a dilemma. He really needs to piss, but that would require moving Louis. He considers it for a few seconds before pushing the sleeping body off of him. He's already at the toilet when Louis manages to shout out protests, but the words are stifled by yawns. Zayn tries not to laugh at the image. 

When he makes it back to the bed, Louis is sitting up, squinting unhappily at a wall. As soon as he notices Zayn's return he puckers his lips into a pout. "That was unnecessary, you monster."

"Hm. Move over."

Despite his complaints, Louis shuffles over so that Zayn can settle down next to him. Zayn asks him, "Breakfast?"

"You have nothing in your fridge," Louis replies promptly. Seeing the blank stare that Zayn gives him, he adds on, "I went through it when you were asleep."

He made himself feel right at home really quick. Zayn definitely can admire that about him. "I think there's a corner shop nearby that's open today. I can make us toast and eggs."

It takes another hour for Zayn to actually leave his apartment complex; he and Louis started kissing which lead to wandering hands. The only reason it stopped there was Louis' rumbling stomach. He gives Zayn an exaggeratedly long kiss on the cheek and practically shoves the older man out the front door.

It's just—he's in such a good mood. This is the first time since he relocated that Zayn feels peaceful in this city. He's still going to go back to London. But now... he might be in less of a hurry to do so. 

Is that really a good thing though? He's content with this relationship with Louis, but it's not like they're dating. Even though Louis had been so skeptical before about getting a boyfriend, that chance of him falling in love with someone else is still a very real possibility. In fact, Zayn can't believe that Louis is single in the first place. Are Americans all straight or something? He remembers one of the first things he had thought about Louis when he met him, some nonsensical comment about how they'd have pretty babies together. It had been silly then and it's embarrassing now. Still. It's a nice thought, even if that's all it ever can be.

He apparently misjudged the distance to the store and it takes him longer to anticipated to arrive there. He's so used to taking the metro around, but he wants to properly appreciate the day. It's Christmas and he has a beautiful boy in his bed. Who could ask for anything better?

He happily greets the only person inside the store, a man working behind the counter. He isn't surprised that there isn't anyone else around; it's still fairly early in the morning, so most people must be either asleep or having family time. Zayn had already mailed his gifts to his sisters a week prior, but there's a pang in his chest knowing that he won't get to see them open all of them.

No, he can't think about that. He repeats the words from earlier in his head: _Beautiful boy in his bed, who could ask for anything better?_

On his way to grab the bread he passes by an aisle filled with those cheap type of toys you'd find in a dollar store. Something catches his eye though, and he has to backtrack to get a better look at it. There's a tiny row of superhero bobblehead dolls, but more importantly there is a Wonder Woman one. He remembers how Louis had teased him by saying he'd dress up as the Amazon for his birthday, and he feels his skin heat up at the memory. Zayn grabs the toy, along with a Green Lantern one for himself, and hurries along to finish his purchasing.

When he was younger, he was really into comic books. That died down after he inherited his money, not from a lack of interest but simply because he got so swamped in everyone's bullshit that he could no longer find time to keep up with his own hobbies. The comics that Louis had noticed were ones that Zayn bought from Midtown when he first arrived in New York, but he hasn't even read them yet. He wonders if Louis is actually a fan. If he is, maybe he'll take him to that shop and he can buy him a statue of Batman or something. He doesn't even know if they have that there, but it'll be worth a try.

After he pays for the items, he decides to take the long way back to his. Normally he would be so paranoid at the idea of anyone being in his flat without any supervision, yet he's perfectly okay with it right now. Perhaps he'll start freaking out over the fact that he broke his own rules once Louis goes home. A taxi almost runs him over as he crosses the street, and Zayn is in such a good mood that he doesn't even flip the driver off when he speeds away. It's like he is encased in a bubble full of happiness and absolutely nothing can burst it. You could stick it with a million pins and the points will all just snap off on impact. He is impenetrable.

At least until he returns to the flat.

The very first thing he notices is that the door isn't closed all the way. Zayn tries to remember if he somehow didn't lock it when he left, but he is positive that he did. When he pushes the door open, there's a suitcase right next to the entrance and he is pretty damn sure that wasn't there when he left. The most obvious thing are the voices. Plural. Louis is inside, and he is arguing with someone, and that someone is a person that Zayn knows. He recognizes that voice almost as well as his mother's. Zayn practically tosses his groceries onto the table, and there's a high chance that some of the eggs are now broken, but that isn't important anymore. The only thing that matters is that Louis is alone with Harry and that they are fighting.

He bursts into his bedroom and he's greeted with the sight of Harry on the floor, tears spilling from his eyes and clutching a bruised cheek. Louis stands over him, breathing heavily and looking a lot angrier than Zayn has ever seen him. He had been in the middle of yelling something, but as soon as he sees Zayn he closes his mouth. The room is engulfed in tense silence as Zayn tries to piece together what exactly he is seeing here. There's probably a reasonable explanation here. Some sort of misunderstanding that he is just not aware of.

And then Harry lets out a sob, and all rationality is thrown from Zayn's mind.

"Get out," he screams, glaring at Louis. "What the fuck did you do to him? Get out!"

Louis stares back at him in disbelief, not moving an inch. He's wearing a pair of Zayn's old joggers that he probably found lying somewhere in the room, and if Zayn had seen that earlier it would have only made him smile. Now it just sends a surge of rage through him. Zayn steps away from the door and points at it, never breaking eye contact with the student. "I don't want you here! Go!"

He flinches and then runs, pushing past Zayn to flee out of the flat. Zayn doesn't watch him go, only knowing that he's gone by the slam of the door in the distance. He takes a deep breath, and then another, trying his best to calm himself down. What just happened? There are too many questions buzzing around his head, and now he probably won't get the answers to at least half of them because the only person who had them is gone. Oh no. He takes another breath and ignores that issue to focus on the one sitting on his floor. Harry is what matters right now. How did Harry even get here?

"I'm so sorry," Harry sniffles, still holding the spot that Louis assumedly hit him in. "It's my fault."

"What are you talking about?" Zayn smiles gently at him, helping him onto his feet. "He's just crazy. Forget about him."

Still. Zayn may not have known Louis for long, but this sort of behavior is completely surprising. He knows that Louis can be bitter—the fact that he's basing his entire educational career off of some sort of grudge is proof of that—yet thiswhole side of him is new. And he simply cannot picture why he would react that way to Harry of all people. Harry's the kind of person who will be polite to someone he hates for no reason other than it being the nice thing to do. What exactly happened here? Did Harry just stroll up to the door, and knocked, and did Louis then attack him in some sort of jealous rage? But even that sounds ridiculous. He's starting to regret kicking Louis out instead of actually talking to him. He can call him, ask him to come back, although he's pretty sure that he won't. Louis is stubborn. Even more, there's a chance that he did do something extremely fucked up and that Zayn would have thrown him out anyway.

Zayn leads Harry back to the living room to seat him on the couch. He then goes to dig through the kitchen for some ice that his friend could put against the bruise, as well as a glass of water for him. His purchases lay forgotten on the table, but he figures he could still make food for the two of them. He is reminded of what else is inside the shopping bags and a pang of...  _something_ hits him. He ignores it though and returns to the living room to sit next to Harry.

"What are you doing here?" he asks after Harry takes a gulp of the water. "I don't remember giving you my address."

"That's because you didn't. I got it from your mum," Harry guiltily admits. "I thought it would be nice to surprise you since you don't want to go back to London. Niall was going to too, but we had to buy separate flights and his got canceled."

Zayn sighs, rubbing his temple. He doesn't know why it never crossed his mind that people would try to come visit him if he continued to refuse going back. It seems very obvious now in hindsight. How did Harry even get into the building anyway? Then again, Louis probably carelessly buzzed him up without even thinking about the consequences. It's not like Zayn has ever actually told him that he never gets any visitors. Imagine if it was a thief or something trying to break in and steal his nonexistent Christmas tree. Louis is such an idiot.

"It's okay. You were right, I'm surprised," Zayn says in a teasing tone. "Come on, H, tell me everything."

For a second it seems like Harry is not going to do that, but he does eventually start talking. "He opened the door and let me in? I think he was expecting it to be you, but he was still really chatty and nice about it? I think he was still getting dressed because he was going back to the room, and I recognized the pants he had on. They're your joggers, you know. So I thought,  _This must be Zayn's boyfriend._ But when I asked him if you were dating, there was this crash that came from the bedroom and I ran over there to see what happened. He like, somehow pulled an entire drawer out."

Zayn missed that. He is slightly peeved that Louis had been snooping through his things, but it had probably been in search for something clean to wear. And going through someone's belongings just seems like a total Louis thing to do that Zayn can't even stay too mad about it. Then again, he is supposed to be angry at Louis. "What happened next?"

"Um," Harry appears to be even more hesitant to continue now. "I was going to offer to help him fix it, but he just got really... cagey? About the boyfriend thing. And then he made some sort of joke about money and I just got angry? I know how badly people treated you because of that inheritance you got, and he was just there joking about you being his sugar daddy or some shit? So I sort of started yelling at him for trying to use you for your money and how you don't need any more people like that in your life. I said he was... I think I called him a child. And after that he just snapped and punched me. I don't know. I shouldn't have said those things, I don't know anything about him."

It really had been a big misunderstanding then. He has so much affection for Harry though and how quickly he had jumped to Zayn's defense like that. Zayn can't fault him for what he did. He is curious about Louis' reaction though. He always figured that Louis has a pet peeve about being compared to a kid; he always responds negatively whenever Zayn called him something of the sort. But to go as far as to attack Harry over it? Even if this situation is a large mistake, Zayn doesn't believe he can forgive him for that.

"Forget about him," Zayn says, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders. "He isn't anyone important."

Harry laughs softly, shaking his head. "Whenever you lie you start blinking a lot."

Zayn blinks. "I do not."

Harry only laughs again, his eyes still teary. "Did I mess something up for you?"

"Nah. You did good, Harry. You did good."

Harry stays in New York til New Year's. Zayn feels bad that he misses Niall's party (that is attended by three out of five Spice Girls) but Harry insists that he wants to spend it with him. He probably wants to make up for the mess that happened with Louis, especially after he found out that Zayn lied about hosting a party with his imaginary friend. 

He is suddenly so aware of how much he misses home. Harry fills him in on all the details of what's been happening in London—uni friends who have gotten engaged, Niall's latest girlfriend, his sister winning some trip to Hawaii. It's the kind of stuff that they discuss on the phone, but being able to reach over and touch Harry while he speaks makes it so much more real. Zayn actually feels like he's a part of that world again instead of someone just listening in. 

The idea of returning to England becomes somehow less unappealing. Seeing Harry again broke whatever barrier he had placed around himself to separate him from the past. It seems kind of silly to refuse to go back now. He wonders if Harry somehow planned this all out, like he knew that Zayn might crack if he were put in a situation like this. 

If he goes back home, Zayn wants to get a job. He doesn't need one but maybe he'll feel better about all of this if he starts buying things with money he has actually earned. The more he plans this potential future out, the more comfortable Zayn becomes with the possibility of leaving the States. He probably won't do it immediately since he still has things to take care of here. 

Louis. 

Zayn doesn't want to contact him first. Yeah, it was a misunderstanding, but he's still peeved at how Louis reacted to it all. And if Louis wanted to explain himself he also could try talking to Zayn. He hasn't made any attempts though, which Zayn takes to mean that he doesn't care enough about the situation to do anything about it. it hurts to think about it that way, especially because Zayn had been so sure that they were finally, truly, making their relationship work on Louis' birthday. But now Zayn knows that he was just jumping to conclusions. From the very start, they had said what they were to each other, and emotions had nothing to do with it.

It isn't until Harry is packing his things to get ready for his upcoming flight back to London that Zayn remembers his birthday gift to the student. Harry finds the check underneath the bed, hidden under one of the socks that Louis had left behind in his hasty escape out of the flat. Harry frowns at the slip of paper and holds it out for Zayn to see. There's an odd expression on his face that Zayn has trouble understanding, and he's nervous of what Harry must be thinking.

"This says Louis on it," Harry says. "That's, um, that guy right? Were you going to give him some money?"

Zayn never confessed what Louis had been to him. In fact, after that whole confrontation happened, Zayn never mentioned him to Harry again. He is certain that Harry wants to talk about it though, yet every time Zayn senses that the conversation is being steered in that direction he abruptly changes the topic or leaves. He doesn't want to see Harry's reaction when he realizes that Louis wasn't abusing Zayn's trust in him, or whatever, because he is definitely going to feel ten times more guilty than he already does. 

"Yeah," Zayn takes the check from him. "It was his birthday on Christmas Eve. I was going to write him a check for his present to... pay for something."

Harry hums in response, his mouth still tugged downwards. After a too long silence he finally says, "You really need to go talk to him. Can you like, do it for me at least? This would have never happened if I didn't just turn up here unannounced."

"You're being really nice about this considering he punched you."

"Don't get me wrong," Harry rolls his eyes. "If I see him again I assure you I am going to say some very strong words to him. I just don't want you to come back home with this huge regret hanging over your shoulders."

It's a somber afternoon when he drops Harry off at the airport. Harry really wanted to stay until Zayn's birthday, but he might get in trouble with his job if he stays here for any longer. So Zayn sends him away with a great big hug and a promise that he will definitely see him again soon. It's raining, the splashes of water stinging like ice when he splatters against his skin. He actually wishes for snow instead, but he doesn't linger too long on that thought. He is pretty sure that he'll want to take that back as soon as the blizzards really get going. That is, if he's even still going to be here for when that happens. Zayn has no idea what he is going to be doing about that, but he does know that he will be returning sometime this year.

He waits until he's out of the airport to pull out his phone. Zayn's fingers hovers over Louis' name for what feels like ten minutes, and he almost changes his mind completely when someone bumps into him. He gets jostled so badly that his hand accidentally presses down against the call button and, to his horror and embarrassment, his phone rings. And rings. And is sent to voicemail. Zayn bites his lip; Louis definitely rejected the call. So, he doesn't want to talk to him. That should be the end of it. Zayn can take that as a sign that this is the end of whatever they had, and they can move on with their lives. Separately. 

Instead, he hurries to his car and gets in it while typing out a quick text. This is a long shot, but it's better to give it a try. At least he'll be able to say that he attempted to set things right in the end.

The drive to the Denny's takes a lot longer than he anticipated because of traffic due to the rain, and he worries that if Louis does, for some reason, actually show up that he'll think he's been stood up. Zayn reaches the destination and does the worst parking job of his entire life and all but runs inside the restaurant. Giving the room a quick glance, he spots a familiar head of hair towards the back of the diner. Zayn ignores the hostess (he'll apologize to her later) to get to the booth, each step that brings him closer also stirs his nerves.

Louis' hair is unstyled, his fringe sitting neatly over his forehead and slightly obscuring his eyes. He's wearing that same red jumper he had on for their first date together, its sleeves pushed back so that they're bunched up near his elbows. He is just so small and soft, and Zayn has trouble believing that someone like this could do what he did to Harry. But it is possible. And if Zayn is going to walk out of here with one thing, it will be the truth. But, Allah, how he wants to reach over and touch his hand.

He doesn't do that. He sits across from Louis, folding his hands on his lap as he settles on the seat's cushion. Louis' face remains blank during this, although a slight twitch of an eye betrays his impassive stance. They don't say anything to each other, and it isn't until the waiter walks over to their table and asks what they want to order that either of them even speak. Once the man leaves, they return to their mutual silence. 

Zayn breaks it first. He pulls out the check from his wallet and places it on the table. Louis' eyes widen to an almost comical size at the gesture, and he just sputters for a couple of seconds.

"You forgot your birthday gift at mine," Zayn says. "Well, and your clothes, but I didn't really plan that far ahead and think to bring them too."

Louis just stares at the check. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm returning your—"

"Shut up," Louis' voice comes out as shrill, earning them the attention of a few other customers. He lowers it when he speaks again. "Do you really expect me to believe that you're still going to give me all that money after all of that? I'm not stupid, mate. What do you really want?"

Zayn sighs, and thankfully the waiter chooses that moment to return with their drinks. It gives him a few extra seconds to consider what his next move is. If he says the wrong thing then there is a high chance that Louis is just going to leave. And if that happens, then Zayn is pretty sure that they're done for good. He waits until the waiter leaves before looking back at Louis. "I want you to take the money and I want an explanation. That's it."

"That's it," Louis scoffs, mocking Zayn's accent. "Didn't that tall bloke fill you in already? I hit him and then you kicked me out. End of story. I'm not taking that check."

_"Louis."_

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his fringe. "Do you remember the ex-boyfriend I mentioned?"

When Zayn nods, Louis continues. "He wasn't a boyfriend. He was... like you, I guess."

Suddenly, so many things make sense. Zayn has always suspected that Louis knew more about this kind of thing than he had been letting on, and now he knows why. Yet... it doesn't entirely add up though. Yes, Louis definitely had been knowledgeable in certain aspects of it all, but his reactions to other things don't fit this picture. Zayn remembers how genuinely shocked Louis had been when he found out that Zayn truly wanted to do this. If he was totally used to this sort of lifestyle, why did he react like that? And it still doesn't explain why he got so angry at Harry. He can ask about this, yet he wants Louis to finish the story unprompted.

Louis fiddles with his straw, tearing up the paper that covers it into tiny pieces. "He was this guy from my hometown. Just a couple of years older than me and Liam, but I'd fancied him for ages. He was super rich too, from some posh family? Anyway, he went away to uni and I figured I was never going to see him again. But he came back when I was seventeen and... he was suddenly interested? We started fooling around a lot and then it got to the point where he would actually take me to nice places. I thought we were properly dating."

Zayn already knows how this story is going to end before Louis even gets to it.

"And then, one day, I called him my boyfriend and he just freaked out on me? Anyway, he basically said that he knew I was some pathetic loser who would never get out of Doncaster and he was just helping me out by showing me the life I'd never have otherwise. And all I had to do was fuck him as thanks."

"I'm sorry," Zayn murmurs. "What a fucking dick."

Louis chuckles. "Believe me, his wasn't so impressive. But, um. Liam had been accepted into NYU and was going overseas for uni. I just sort of tagged along because I wanted to be as far away from that guy as possible, and I eventually just applied to a school here so I wouldn't get deported or whatever. It was really hard, I guess, but I wanted to prove him wrong. And then that friend of yours... sorry. A lot of the shit he said was practically the same thing that asshole said to me. I'm just some money hungry child who doesn't deserve—whatever. I shouldn't have hit him. It just hit a little too close to home."

There's still something that bothers Zayn though. "What I don't understand is... why did you agree to do this with me? If it brings back such a bad memory for you. Wouldn't it have been easier to pursue a normal relationship?"

"I wanted to see what it would be like," Louis admits. "Your friend was right. I did kind of use you."

Zayn looks around at the restaurant they're in. He still remembers the first time they were in here on the night they met, and how much Louis had puzzled him back then. It has only been a few weeks since then, yet so much has changed. He's tired. He wants to crawl back into bed and sleep for days, to pretend that none of this ever happened and that he never inherited this money.

He tries to imagine what his life would be like if he were still just some normal guy who struggled to make rent every month but still had fun going about it. It wouldn't be that bad. His life had been pretty okay before he was rich.

He pictures his mum's face when they were finally rid of all their debt though. And how happy his sisters were when they all got everything they wanted for their birthdays. He remembers how Louis had cried when Zayn offered to pay his tuition. How Louis' eyes get all squinty whenever he's overcome with joy, and how soft the skin underneath his clothes is. How he can somehow be flirtatious and reserved all at once, this weird contradictory state of being that wouldn't make sense for anyone but him. How, if he never had this money, he wouldn't have met him.

"I decided that I'm going back to London," Zayn says. "Probably in the spring, maybe sooner."

Louis sinks down in his seat. "Oh."

"I'm not leaving because of you. I just... you're not the only one who ran from things. I wasn't like, born rich or anything. My neighbor was this old lady who never got any visitors and I would talk to her sometimes? She never talked about her relatives so I just always assumed they didn't get along or she didn't have any. And it turned out she was practically a billionaire, and she put me on her will as her only successor? And after that, everything went to shit. People who I thought were my friends ended up fighting over my money. Then her relatives started coming after me, saying I did some underhanded shit to get the money. It was too much, you know? So I came here to just relax for a bit. And now I think I'm ready to go back."

"Is this it then?" Louis asks. "I guess you can't say we're breaking up, but..."

Zayn holds his hand across the table. Louis looks at it and raises an eyebrow, obviously wondering what the hell is going on. Zayn is undeterred though, and he simply takes Louis' hand in his and shakes it firmly. "Hi. I'm Zayn Malik. And you?"

Louis blinks in surprise; they had never told each other their surnames. "Uh, Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Nice to meet you?"

"So," Zayn says, letting go of his hand. "Louis Tomlinson. Wanna go out with me sometime? I know this nice little cafe that has the best coffee."

Louis pulls a face at that. "Let's pass on the coffee bit. May I ask what your intentions with me are, Zayn Malik?"

"You see, I'm going to be leaving soon and I want to experience the best that New York has to offer," he replies. His voice softens when he goes on to say, "And I was sort of hoping that would include you?"

Louis' eyebrows shoot up so high that they seem to merge with his fringe. 

Undeterred, Zayn continues. "Look, I know that we definitely fucked some things up with all of this. And I want to say we should try to start over with a clean slate, but I doubt we'd be able to manage that. But can we drop the whole sugar daddy and sugar baby deal? Like, even if nothing comes out of this and we never see each other again when I leave, I want to at least give this a proper shot. Is that okay?"

"Long distance relationships are very difficult," Louis says sternly, but the smile that's forming on his face clashes with his tone. "We probably won't last a week after you get on that plane."

Zayn bites his lower lip to keep in a laugh. "Then let's make the weeks leading up to that final one mean something, huh? Besides, my birthday is in a few days and I do remember a promise that involved a leotard and some rope?"

"Excuse you," Louis huffs. " _Lasso._ Use the proper terminology, you fake comic book geek."

"Whatever," Zayn mutters as he leans over the table to kiss Louis. It's gentle and careful, as if each brush of their lips could be the very last. And it's true for them, but it's also true for every other relationship that's happening in the world right now. Feelings are fickle and fragile, always changing and ending if someone just breathes on them wrong.

So, who knows what's going to happen in a week? Or in a month. Maybe he'll decide to stay here, and he and Louis will live happily ever after in some penthouse overlooking Central Park. Or maybe he will return to London, and they'll lose contact with each other and he'll never hear from Louis again. But he does know that right now he wants to stay tangled up with Louis, in his affection and in his sheets. 

What more can he ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> oh looks like reveals happened!! you can find me on [tumblr](http://yukikoamagi.tumblr.com/).


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